We were wandering around some version of Ann Arbor. I had a special type of scope you could look into that would allow you to see the landscape before human civilization came along. It was just like being lost in the woods. That’s a pretty clear metaphor for the fact that we’re all essentially lost in the woods despite being surrounded by modern life, right? Sometimes dreams are so on-the-nose. 

I tried to remember if I still lived in Ann Arbor or if I’d moved back to Denver — or if I’d moved back to Denver and then back to Ann Arbor. I have this dream all the time. Why would I move back to Michigan? I hated it so much. But nothing that has happened to me since then feels real. 

The version of Ann Arbor I dream about moving back to never looks like the real place. I tried to picture the apartment I was currently living in, but I couldn’t remember for sure. I could picture a variety of apartments — some of which were actual ones I’ve lived in in either Ann Arbor or Denver and some of which seemed familiar but were clearly imaginary. The one that felt the most recent was one of the imaginary ones. I knew it wasn’t real. 

I thought as hard as I could but couldn’t see the place I lived. Then I woke up, and I was like, “Oh yeah, this is where I live now.” It also felt completely unreal. My current apartment is one of the imaginary ones, because nothing that has happened to me since I left Michigan has been real. 

This is what it must feel like to be a ghost or a wandering spirit. You can never quite remember the details of your life, and everything feels like it could be a dream. No wonder people are so terrified of ghosts — either being one or meeting one. It’s the worst possible feeling. Any spirit that became lost like that would surely go insane and would do anything to come back to “reality.” They would steal someone’s life in a heartbeat. I would do it.